


「Ten More | 以後」

by yuren



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Mild Language, Quarter Life Crisis Counselling, Romantic Fluff, Timeskip Occupation Spoiler, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, With Iwaizumi Hajime (22) Athletic Trainer Hopeful, i can't seem to go too long without writing about One Bed jaksdflksj, it's one bed again!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29921556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuren/pseuds/yuren
Summary: “So, year six,” he hurries on, ears tinted pink, “I’ve got my goal set on the head trainer for the men’s Olympic team.”“Hajime,” you frown, “never mind me, but would you still have a friendship by then?”“Yeah,” he grins, “‘cause we’re gonna crush him.”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader
Kudos: 34





	「Ten More | 以後」

“Where do you think you’ll be in ten years?”

The lights are dimmed. The city’s chatter outside the sliver of open windows mingles with the soft remix humming from inside the apartment. It’s a tender kind of cacophony that only a sleepless metropolis can provide. 

This is music for a late night drive, one that your teenage self so desperately wished that you had the courage to pursue when time was free and youth, eternal. But instead, many years later, you are enjoying this kind of abandonment for the first time in the haven of your home, in the midst of a Sunday evening’s daydream. 

The bed rustles from under you. The barks of a nameless neighbour’s dog echo from a few buildings over, and you nudge your lover’s leg.

“Hajime, come on,” you pout, eyes passing over his languid form. “Indulge in me a little.”

Iwaizumi glances up at you, eyebrow quirked as he puts down his phone. 

His white t-shirt is freshly laundered, free of wrinkles and warming up your senses with the kind of security only he can provide. His hair is still a little damp, you observe with a frown. But that’s still better than the dripping wetness of your own. 

Your excuse is that you’re stuck with a sheet mask doing step five of your weekend skincare routine. And it’s always at these moments that you have unexpected time on your hands.

Iwaizumi rolls over, sitting up on the creamy bedsheets of eight hundred count Egyptian cotton that his mother insisted on gifting you two when you had moved in together. It’s a good thing that she did too because you don’t know if you’d have the heart to buy such luxury so early on in your domestic partnership. 

“Alright,” your lover relents, typing something into his phone before placing it on his nightstand. “So where’s this coming from?”

“I dunno. I guess it’s because I don’t know myself,” you mumble.

“Hey, that’s alright,” he frowns hand smoothing over your blanketed thigh. “It’s normal. Most of us haven’t got things figured out yet,” he mutters, gently kneading small rhythmic circles into your muscles. “Makki’s still trying to figure things out, and I heard that Kunimi’s just switched majors again. So it’s okay not to know.”

“Yeah, I know, Hajime,” His eyes soften at your smile. “I was just thinking that, wow, we’re in our twenties and everything’s been moving so quickly and time passes by so fast but also, it’s just so...” you trail off, not entirely too sure how to finish this train of thought. 

“Slow?”

"Yeah, I guess,” you laugh at his simplicity. A heart thumping kind of bass resonates in the hollows of your chest cavity. Time has a tendency to slow into a deep, easy flow when you talk about these things with him. “It’s just, you know, sometimes I just wish that we could spend forever here in this bed just like this, exactly in this moment.”

And Iwaizumi knows. 

Those dark brown eyes pause to look at you — really look at you like he sometimes does when you’re anchored up in his arms of muscles and sinews, his skin merged with yours and you’ve forgot all about yesterday and tomorrow. In those moments, he’d stop and just look at you with a reverence that you could cry from.

And Iwaizumi understands. The depths of the browns resurface with the laughter that tumbles through his lips in gentle waves. The cotton laps against your bare legs as he scoots closer, his skin against yours as his arm wraps around your shoulders in a gravitational weight. 

“I know,” he grins after a beat, head slowly descending onto the junction where the soft flesh of your neck meets sensitive bone.

Your head tilts back against the headboard on its own violation as you shift to accommodate him, making room for slightly chapped lips to graze against thin skin and for gruff tones to glide along gentle curves. 

“You remember when we first got together, and I accidentally asked you to move to Japan with me?”

Your lips quirk at that memory. “Yeah, I thought you were insane.”

“And you still stuck around after that,” he grins, hand reaching up to pat the top of your head.

“Maybe I’m also crazy,” you mumble, slouching down into the blankets as you bring him along with you.

“Maybe,” he chuckles lowly. “In my defence, there are people that plan for years ahead.”

“Their plans probably don’t involve their first girlfriend right after the first fuck,” you tease. “Nor do they share it with said girlfriend right after said fuck.”

You go to hit him in the arm but his hand comes up to catch your punch, rough fingers enveloping your closed fist as he brings it down to his lap.

“Yeah, but I really did know what I want,” he retorts, eyes resting on the way that your fingers slot between his. He’s always thought that you had nice hands, something that he can unquestionably hold onto.

“Me in Japan?” you laugh. “Congratulations on achieving your life’s goal, Hajime.”

“That’s only the first step.”

“How many steps are there?”

“Didn’t you ask for a ten year plan?” he chuckles.

“Oh, right,” you frown. “But you’re cheating, because then we’ve already passed year one.”

A gargled noise of indignation rises from his throat, and he glares up at you smirking down at him. “Let me live.”

“Request accepted.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes before clearing his throat. 

“Okay, by the end of year one, I want to move in with you.”

“We’ve done that,” you muse.

“That’s thanks to you.” He squeezes your hand lightly. “Year two, I want to sign onto a Div. One team as their trainer.”

“Well, you’re already talking with the Adlers.” You feel a heat start to crawl up your neck. For some reason, this kind of talk is getting embarrassing.

“Yeah, it’s looking very promising,” he grins conspiratorially at you. “Oikawa was actually just yelling at me about how I’m betraying him.”

“Hajime, stop teasing him so much. You still need to get him to bring me back a penguin pitcher,” you frown. “So what’s next?”

“Ah, year three,” he perks up. “I was thinking we can get a dog or something.” 

He looks up at you expectantly, and you return his look with a flat smile. 

“You mean a cat or something.”

“Nope,” he smiles back just as cordially. “I mean a dog or something.”

“We’ll see,” you huff. It’s the same damn thing each time. “Moving on.”

Iwaizumi lets out a quiet click of his tongue before continuing. “Year four, I’m gonna apply to the JVA.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be getting my penguin pitcher from Tooru,” you sigh, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“I think Shittykawa would enjoy the competition actually,” your boyfriend scoffs. “The masochistic fuck would definitely think it’s more fun this way.”

You hum in response, a knowing smile on your lips. It’s deeply endearing that Iwaizumi says all this as if he’s any different from his best friend in this regard.

“And year five?” you prompt.

You’d be entering your late twenties you realize with a shiver.

At this year, your lover pauses, the earlier pizzaz gone as he considers something. His gaze trails down to your joined hands again before he lets out a short sigh.

“Year five, right. I was, um, I was actually thinking that maybe we can start looking for an apartment.”

“To buy?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he trails off lamely, eyes still doggedly set on your intertwined hands.

There’s a tight feeling in his chest, as if a small peach pit is stuck there, but when he feels the hitch of breath in your own chest, the coil eases a little.

It’s the same hitch of breath when he had asked to you move to Japan with him later in your relationship.

Your exhale comes slowly as his body relaxes against yours again. “That’d be nice,” you reply quietly, the heat on your neck now shooting up to your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile softly along with his.

Iwaizumi is just relieved that you’re not against it.

“So, year six,” he hurries on, ears tinted pink, “I’ve got my goal set on the head trainer for the men’s Olympic team.”

“Hajime,” you frown, “never mind me, but would you still have a friendship by then?”

“Yeah,” he grins, “‘cause we’re gonna crush him.”

“I’m guessing that Ushijima-san and Kageyama-kun are both on board with this?”

His smile is bordering on sadistic, and you can only shake your head with a light laugh. 

“Everyone is.” 

“Okay, me too.” Your hand squeezes his. “What’s next?”

“What’s next?”

“Yeah, we’re at year seven now.”

Year seven. 

Iwaizumi pauses before a realization dawns upon him.

Oh.

Year seven. 

He’d be twenty-eight. 

He shoots straight up, almost hitting your jaw with his forehead, and turns to face you with a frown.

Mildly alarmed, you sit up as well, head tilted as you look at him curiously.

“Hajime?” you smile uncertainly. “Is everything okay with year seven?”

Eyes steeled against yours, he nods with conviction. “It’s great.”

“Okay...” the smile turns into a confused frown. “Then what’s your plan for year seven?”

“It’s a secret.”

Your jaw drops before you immediately close it again when the mask threatens to slip off.

“What.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“You can’t just not tell me the rest!”

“Yes, I can.”

“That’s—” you glower at him, shocked that he’s just going to leave you in the dark like this. “That’s so mean of you.”

He continues looking at you, unyielding but eyes softened at the same time. 

You return his look with a pout. 

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, so we’re skipping over year seven _for now_ ,” you huff, glaring at him. “What’s with year eight?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Keep Japan at the top.”

“Sure, okay,” you nod. “That’s doable.”

His smile is too fucking bright at this point.

“What about year nine?”

“That’s also confidential,” he grins.

“What the fuck.”

“So’s year ten.”

“What the actual fuck, Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Language.”

“No!” you almost yell at him. “You can’t just—” 

Your words devolve into a slew of unidentifiable noises as you glare at him with everything you’ve learned from Oikawa, which probably is the least affective move.

And it is, because he’s only responds with a shrug and lopsided smile. “I’ll tell you the rest when we get to year seven.”

Arms crossed and head about to blow off with the annoyance at his stupidly cute, apologetic expression, you violently throw the covers off, not caring that it falls over his face, and get up to leave.

“I bet you don’t actually have a ten year plan,” you mutter, feeling the pettiness rise tenfold in your chest. With one last huff, you make a show of stomping all the way to the bathroom as you hear his muffled laughter behind you.

But what you don’t hear is Iwaizumi’s sigh of relief.

_That was too close.  
_

Iwaizumi has truly, seriously thought about things ten years down the line. It doesn’t matter that you’re still figuring things out, because he enjoys the process of being here while you do, and he knows that you will. 

And for himself, he simply likes to plan ahead, especially for these particular ten years in question.

But as he entered his twenties, he’s been faced with a problem with years eight, nine, and ten. Year seven, with the way that things have been going, he’s pretty confident that his plan would go without a hitch.

The problem with years eight and after is that they would no longer be his alone. Iwaizumi has no desire to plan those years or any after all by himself. In year nine, Iwaizumi might want further additions to year five’s apartment, but that choice is not his alone. And in year ten, the idea of leaving Japan has crossed his mind, but if he asked you to come to Japan in year one, then he’d also ask you about leaving ten years later. 

Because since year zero, Iwaizumi has already started recalibrating his vocabulary from “his life” to the potential technicalities of “our life”, just as you had accepted “his country” as “our home”. 

And when he hears the tap running in “our bathroom” and the soft crooning of “our city” rising up to meet the low drum beats and harmonic electric guitar thrums of “our playlist”, he wishes that in ten years, his everything would become yours, his, and ours. 

Because ultimately, after the tens have run out and forever is on the horizon, all Iwaizumi wants is to be in love with you.


End file.
